


where the daylight begins

by ADreamingSongbird



Series: harbor [1]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (just don't tell him she said that), M/M, POV Outsider, Post-Canon Fix-It, Reunions, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, in which eiji's lil sis is a bit of a brat but is also Ride Or Die for big bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 22:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADreamingSongbird/pseuds/ADreamingSongbird
Summary: It's a blustery winter day when Okumura Nahoko answers the door to find a handsome American asking for her brother.





	where the daylight begins

**Author's Note:**

> jazz hands, it's me back with another characterization exercise!!! I also wanted to try outsider pov for a change bc i've never really done that before. 
> 
> the title is from [harbor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTdQRtU5O_I) by vienna teng, which is an EXTREMELY good song (and is also an eiji anthem, no i will not change my mind).

_Ding-dong!_

“Nahoko!” her mother’s voice drifts in from the kitchen. “Go see who it is! If Ei-chan is home, help him with his bags, please.”

“Okay!” Nahoko is all too happy to drop her math homework and hop to her feet, trotting to the door. Eiji’s on his way home from university for winter break, though her guess is that he’s probably not here yet and it’s Yamada-san from across the street asking if she can borrow a cup of sugar because she forgot to go to the store again.

_Ding-dong!_

“One minute!” she scolds the door, tugging a jacket on. It’s cold outside and she’s not about to freeze to death, okay? “I’m coming, sheesh!”

The doorbell doesn’t ring again, at least.

She yanks it open a moment later, a practiced “Yes, Yamada-san, my mother is in the kitchen, of course you can come in!” on her lips, but stops dead:

This… is not Yamada-san.

Instead, the tall, blond man in front of her looks just as startled as she is, blinking at her behind thin-rimmed glasses. After a moment of confused silence and blinking back and forth at each other, he seems to find his voice.

“Ah… is English okay?”

Nahoko blinks again. Her English is decent, partly from school but mostly from watching American movies on the internet. She’s been practicing a lot with Eiji, now that he’s back from America, too. “English is okay, yes.”

The man looks relieved. “Is this the Okumura residence?”

Nahoko wrinkles her nose at the way his foreign tongue trips over her family name, and then she puts together his American accent and his search for an Okumura and understands: “You are Eiji’s friend?”

Bingo. At just the mention of her big brother’s name, the American’s face lights up. He has a pretty smile. “Yes! Yes. May I speak to him?”

Nahoko shivers as the wind blows; it rained earlier, and the winter air is chilly on her face as she finally steps back to let Eiji’s friend into the house. He slips his shoes off and leaves them at the door, shrugging out of a coat and hanging it in the closet she points at, and follows her to the living room.

She sits down on one end of the sofa and gives their guest a searching look. “What is your name, Eiji’s friend?”

Eiji’s American looks around slowly, taking in the house, and then back at her. “Aslan. I take it you’re the little sister he told me about?”

Nahoko bobs her head. Eiji talked about her? Hah, he better have! “Yes. I am Nahoko.”

“Nice to meet you.” Aslan shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “May I see Eiji?”

Nahoko’s brow furrows. “Eiji is not here.”

Aslan’s eyes go wide, as if she’s just slapped him across the face. As if she could even reach his face. Why is he so tall? He’s taller than Eiji, and Eiji is taller than her, and that’s just not fair. It really is true, what everyone says, about Americans being giants!

“Not here? Where is he? Can… can I go to him?”

“He is at university!” Nahoko waves her hands. “Sit, sit. I will go tell my mother you are here.”

Aslan sinks onto the sofa pushed against the wall but looks so devastated by Eiji’s absence that Nahoko kind of pities him. “Oh. University. Okay.”

Nahoko heads to the kitchen and sticks her head in. “Kaa-san, one of Eiji’s American friends is here. Did he tell you he was having a guest?”

“What?” Kaa-san shakes her head, putting down her spatula. “No. He has a friend over?”

Nahoko shrugs. “An American just showed up at the door asking for Eiji. He says his name is Aslan.”

“Call him and ask,” Kaa-san instructs. “Let me go talk to the American.”

“Okay.” Nahoko steals back to her room and gets her phone, holding speed dial 2 to get her brother to explain why she just opened the door on a complete stranger who’s now seen her in her ugliest socks.

It rings and rings, but Eiji doesn’t answer.

Annoyed, Nahoko calls again. Once again, she gets his soft, polite voicemail: “Moshi moshi, you have reached Eiji Okumura. I am sorry I could not attend your call. Please leave a message, and I will call back when I can!”

“Nii-chan, pick up your phone when I call you!” She huffs. “What is the point of you having a phone if you won’t answer me!”

Since he’s clearly not paying attention—passed out asleep on the train, if she knows him—she decides to just leave him a text for later.

[17:04] Nahoko:  
pick up your phone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
anyway do u know an american named aslan?

Eiji is definitely asleep on the train, because the message remains unread.

* * *

Over a cup of tea, Aslan explains yes, that he and Eiji spent a lot of time together during Eiji’s two years in America, and that no, he didn’t tell Eiji he was coming, because all he had was their home address, and he figured a letter would take far longer than just showing up. He pulls out his phone and shows Nahoko pictures of New York City, none of them as professional as Eiji’s but all the more full of life for it.

“When will he be home?” he finally asks, and Nahoko looks up.

“Any minute now. He is not answering his phone, useless brother that he is, but he is supposed to have been home two minutes ago.” It’s a ridiculously precise estimate, but if there’s anything she’s good at, it’s giving Eiji a hard time. He said he’d be home by 17:30, and he is not. Therefore, she gets to rag on him.

Aslan plays with the hem of his sweater and glances at the door. “I hope he’s okay…”

Nahoko has to laugh. “You are getting worried just because he is not answering? You will get along well with my mother!”

Aslan opens his mouth to object, finds nothing to say, and closes it again, giving her a look reminiscent of the one Eiji wore a few weeks back, after she threw him under the bus for having a stash of some weird American junk food in his room despite all his talk of healthy living. “And you’re just like your brother…”

“No!” Nahoko objects. “I am prettier.”

Aslan snorts.

“Hey, Aslan.” She tips her head to the side, curious, and gives him her best searching look. “What happened to my brother in America? He… did not come home the same.”

Aslan looks startled, then contemplative, and then finally a little sad. “A lot happened. Not all of it was good. I… a lot of what he got dragged into was my fault. I’m sorry for that. I know it can’t have been easy to see him hurt because of what I did.”

_Bzz._

Nahoko looks down at her phone.

[17:33] Big Bro:  
why are you asking that?

Ignoring Eiji’s defensiveness for the moment, she focuses on Aslan. “What do you mean? Because of what you did? What did you do to him?”

Aslan winces just as Kaa-san calls sharply from the kitchen doorway, “ _Nahoko!_ Be polite with our guest!”

Nahoko ignores her mother for the moment. She might think it’s more important to be polite, but Nahoko wants _answers._ Her brother came home from America hurting, and she never managed to get the reason out of him. Just because she’s fifteen doesn’t mean she can’t look out for him.

“I never meant to get him mixed up in anything,” Aslan says, looking away. “But he was curious. I… it got complicated. Sorry. I can explain, but…”

A sudden blast of bright J-pop rings out, and Nahoko fumbles to grab her phone as it tries to vibrate out of her hands. “Nii-san?”

“Nahoko.” Eiji’s voice is tense through the crackly wind noise coming through his speaker. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Uh,” Nahoko manages. “Are you almost home? It might be easier to just explain when you get here?”

“I’m walking from the bus stop,” Eiji says, which means he’s on the corner and about a block from home. “What do you mean, easier to explain. Who told you that name? I need to know, Nahoko, I’m serious—”

“There’s an American sitting on our couch, and he wants to talk to you!” Nahoko gives Aslan a suspicious look now. Why is hearing his name making Eiji so antsy? Were they really friends like Aslan says? What if he was one of the people who hurt Eiji?

Her brother blows out a slow breath into the phone. It sounds more like a hiss. “Tell him these exact words: ‘Max, this is not funny.’ Tell him that, okay?”

Nahoko’s opinion of “Aslan” drops further. He gave them a fake name? He came into their house and drank Kaa-san’s tea and talked about Eiji like an old friend but he wouldn’t even tell them his real name? She levels him another dirty look.

“Eiji says, ‘Max, this is not funny,” she accuses. “Why are you here if you are going to lie to us about being Eiji’s friend?”

“No—Nahoko, Max is a friend of mine,” Eiji sighs through the phone. “Aslan is… someone else.”

“I’m not Max,” Max? Aslan? whatever his name is, blurts out, startled. “Does he think Max would just—Max would’ve come here through Ibe, wouldn’t he? Damn, maybe I should’ve thought of that to begin with…”

“He says he is not Max,” Nahoko starts to say, but then a key sounds in the door and Eiji hangs up.

Not-Max jumps to his feet, eyes fixed on the door. It opens, letting in a rush of cold air, and Eiji stumbles in, lugging a heavy backpack with his computer and textbooks. He’s out of breath and gasping from the cold, when he finally speaks. “Tadaima…”

“Okaeri.” Nahoko hurries over to him, taking his coat as he struggles with his winter boots, and…

“Eiji.”

Nahoko jumps. Aslan has walked up behind her so quietly she didn’t notice, but in front of her, Eiji is frozen, stock-still and pale-faced with wide-eyes as if he’s just seen a ghost.

“Ash?” he whispers.

Aslan reaches over and takes the backpack, nearly dropping it before he corrects and places it carefully against the wall. “Oof! What’re you carrying in this thing, _bricks?”_

“A computer and a camera and some books…” Eiji swallows hard, voice quiet and numb. “I… I am hallucinating. Nahoko, is he here?”

“There’s definitely _someone_ here,” Nahoko mutters, crossing her arms. “Is he Aslan or Max?”

“Told you,” Aslan says, “I’m not Max.”

Eiji lets out a choked gasp, hands fluttering uncertainly at his sides like he wants to do something but doesn’t know what. “You—you’re here?”

Aslan offers a lopsided smile and holds out his arms. “Yeah. Sorry I took so long.”

“ _Ash,”_ Eiji cries, and then he’s flung himself forward to bury his face in Aslan (Ash?)’s neck, arms around him so tight that Nahoko half thinks he might snap him in half. Aslan stumbles back but catches him and then hugs him so hard he picks him up off the ground and spins him around and around in the living room, and Eiji bursts into tears.

“Hey, hey,” Aslan murmurs, setting Eiji on his feet and wiping at his cheeks with one hand. “Don’t cry, it’s okay, hey, Eiji, it’s okay…”

Eiji clutches two fistfuls of the back of his sweater, nose red from both cold and tears. “Okay, my _ass—_ ”

“Holy shit, who taught you that kind of language?”

“—you stupid, disappearing—you—you pumpkin!”

Nahoko blinks. Does pumpkin have a meaning other than just the gourd, in English? She’ll have to be careful not to ever call someone from America a pumpkin. That sounded like an insult.

Maybe she should just give up and go to her room? This is incredibly awkward. Why does Kaa-san have to be in the restroom right now? Kaa-san would know what to do.

“ _Pumpkin?”_ Aslan sounds scandalized, but he doesn’t let go of Eiji. “That’s _harsh!”_

Eiji lets out a wet laugh and lifts his head, looking up at him with tears still streaming from his eyes. “It is what you deserve, making me wait this long…”

Aslan’s smile fades, and he lowers his head until his nose almost brushes Eiji’s. Nahoko stares unabashedly. Did Eiji net himself a hot American _boyfriend?_ “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eiji. I didn’t think it’d take me this long to get to you—”

“Stop apologizing!” Eiji smacks his arm, then clutches him close. “I have told you, that is for the Japanese to do. Stupid Ash, it was not your fault!”

“It’s not my fault but I’m still a pumpkin? Strange logic.” Aslan laughs, burying his face in Eiji’s hair, and Eiji mumbles something into his sweater that Nahoko doesn’t catch, but it puts a radiant smile on Aslan’s face.

“Um.” Nahoko fidgets, awkward and out-of-place. Should she stay? Or go? There’s clearly a lot going on here, but she has no idea what the protocol for this situation is, and she has to admit she’s curious. “Nii-san, do you want tea? And Kaa-san made dinner, it’s in the kitchen.”

“I—we can eat in a little while,” Eiji says in a rush, only tearing his eyes away from Aslan for a second. He seems a little disoriented, as if he forgot that she was there, or maybe that he isn’t in America anymore, and then he blinks and looks up at Aslan. “I think—Ash, let’s go to my room, we can talk?”

Aslan nods. “Yeah.”

“Thanks, Nahoko.” Eiji wraps his arm around Aslan’s waist. “If you are hungry, eat. I might be a while.”

“Oh,” Nahoko says, a little disappointed that she doesn’t get to spend any time with Eiji after he’s been gone for school. She was looking forward to dinner tonight, but… these are extenuating circumstances, she guesses. “Okay.”

* * *

“I don’t get it! Nii-san never said he dated anyone over there.” Nahoko swings her legs back and forth, thoughtful. “But the way he hugged Aslan, I’ve never seen him with anyone like that before! Do you think maybe Aslan is why Nii-san stayed in America for so long?”

“Don’t sit on the countertop, dear.” Kaa-san waves a hand. “I just cleaned it.”

“Sorry.” Nahoko jumps down. “But seriously. Did he tell _you_ anything about Aslan?”

“No.” Kaa-san doesn’t sound entirely pleased, and Nahoko blinks. “But Eiji didn’t tell us much of anything about his time in America, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this Aslan was something to him there.”

Eiji… that’s true, actually. He showed pictures and told stories, but always skirted around the big questions. “Huh.”

“Now be a good girl and go give them this.” Kaa-san places two sets of chopsticks on a tray with two plates of freshly reheated food and two cups of tea. “They haven’t eaten yet, and I’m sure they’re hungry.”

“Okay,” Nahoko sighs, picking up the tray and making a face. It’s a little heavier than she expected.

She heads down the hallway past her bedroom toward Eiji’s, balancing the tray carefully in both hands, and then frowns in front of the door. How is she supposed to knock when she has no hands? Should she kick at the door? Would Eiji tell her off for doing that again, or let it slide, or…

Voices drift from inside, and without entirely meaning to, she overhears snippets of a conversation.

“Shh,” Eiji is saying. “Ash. Ash, it is okay now. It is over. We are safe, okay? You are here with me. It is okay.”

“I—I was so _scared!”_ Aslan sounds like he’s _crying,_ Nahoko realizes with a start. She had no idea anything was wrong, an hour ago when Eiji got here. She thought Eiji would be the one still crying. He’s been so sad ever since coming home. “I thought… I thought I was gonna die there, Eiji, I th-thought I was dying as soon as—as soon as I realized I _wanted_ to live, and, and…”

“Oh, Ash…”

Nahoko stares at the door, aghast. What in the _world_ happened to Aslan in America? A near-death experience? Holy crap! That’s intense! She knows Eiji went over there to help Ibe-san with documenting American street gangs, but it’s still like a bucket of cold water was just thrown over her head.

Eavesdropping is rude, but she’s so curious she can’t help herself. She shifts on her feet and stays, listening closer. Eiji never told them _anything_ about what America was like. Maybe now she can finally get some kind of answers.

“Did they tell you?” Aslan’s voice is muffled and ragged. “Shunichi, or Max. Did… did anyone tell you about me?”

“Sing did.” Eiji’s voice is so soft that Nahoko has to strain to hear it. “But not the whole story. He told me about Lao attacking you. I only saw his message when our plane landed. He told me he did not think you made it, but… I did not believe him. I wanted to turn around and fly back to New York. I told him—” and here Eiji chuckles humorlessly, “—that it was not true last time, and I would not accept it this time, because I knew you would not leave me alone again.”

“I almost did.” Aslan’s voice cracks. “I almost did leave you, Eiji, god, how do you not hate me for it—”

“I could never hate you.” Nahoko has never heard Eiji so tender, save maybe years on years ago when she was little and crying into his chest about the loudness of a thunderclap. “I love you too much.”

 _“Eiji,”_ Aslan cries, and then there’s the sound of a sob, and Eiji hushes him again, soothing and gentle. Nahoko hovers awkwardly outside the door for several seconds, listening to him cry, and then swallows hard and bumps her knee against it to announce her presence.

“Nii-san?” She raises her voice a touch, to make sure she’s heard. “Kaa-san sent me with dinner and tea for you both…”

“Coming,” Eiji calls, and then she hears his footsteps approaching the door. A moment later, it opens, and she catches a glance of Aslan sitting on Eiji’s futon, wrapped in Eiji’s blanket, with a blotchy red flush and tears dripping from his chin. Eiji follows her gaze as he takes the tray from her, and the look on his face is so loving that suddenly she feels like she’s intruding just by being in the doorway.

“I’ll, um, be in my room—”

Eiji looks back at her with a small smile, the genuine one she hasn’t seen much from him in months. “Thank you, Nahoko,” he says, settling the tray against his hip, and leans over to peck the top of her head. “See you later.”

“You’re welcome,” she manages, blinking, as Eiji closes his door.

So. Aslan is _definitely_ Eiji’s secret foreign boyfriend. With the look on Eiji’s face just now, there’s no doubt about it.

Aslan said things got messy, and it was his fault Eiji got involved in some drama or something. And now he says he thinks Eiji should hate him, but Eiji says he loves him. And there’s something about Aslan nearly dying, but she’s not entirely sure where that part fits in. But one thing’s for sure as she pads back into her bedroom and stares at her stupid math homework:

She sure has a lot to think about.

* * *

By the time Kaa-san asks her to go get the dishes from Eiji’s room so they can be washed before bed, Nahoko has finished both her math homework and her contemplation of Aslan’s past with Eiji. After all, there’s only so many possibilities that it could have been, and she’s confident she’s got the right answer, now.

She knocks on the door once, softly, but silence greets her. She knocks again, a little louder, and this time Aslan’s voice drifts out: “Uh, yes?”

She opens the door and stops in the threshold, surprised. Both Aslan and Eiji are on the futon, rolled out near the wall; Aslan is leaning back against a pillow, and Eiji is asleep against his shoulder, hugging his arm. Her suspicions are all the more confirmed: secret foreign boyfriend.

“Hey,” Aslan greets, voice low. “Sorry. I, uh, can’t get up. Did you need something?”

“My mother sent me to bring her the dishes.” Nahoko closes the door and walks over to the tray. It’s on Eiji’s desk, neatly cleared, but she doesn’t pick it up yet, turning to face Aslan again. “But I also want to tell you something.”

Aslan tilts his head slightly. “Okay?”

Nahoko considers him. “You are the reason my brother spent so much longer than originally planned in America, aren’t you?”

At that, Aslan looks away, and she knows she’s right. “Yeah.”

She hardens her voice as best as she can. “When he returned, he was not himself. He shut himself in his room and cried, thinking we would not notice. He would not talk about you, even though you were in so many of his photographs. Our parents and I never knew, really, who you were to him, or what he went through there. We respected that he did not want to talk about it. But he was hurting. He was hurting very much.”

Aslan lets out a shaky breath and looks down at Eiji, still asleep against his shoulder. There is pain in his eyes, and that makes her feel bad for being harsh, but it also reassures her that he truly does care for Eiji. “I… can only imagine what he was going through.”

That’s a good answer. Nahoko nods. “Yes. He was in lots of pain. He was grieving. I never knew what he was grieving before, but I think I understand, now.”

Aslan’s head snaps up, and now he’s pinning her with a sharp gaze. “Do you?”

Nahoko lifts her chin. “Yes. My brother fell in love with you, and he left America because you broke his heart. Now—”

“What?!”

“—you have come chasing after him all the way to Japan, and he is happy, and if you really do make him happy then I am happy. But,” and she holds up her finger threateningly, because he might be way taller than her, but he’s on the floor right now and she means business, “if you ever break his heart again, I will not forgive you.”

Aslan stares at her, wide-eyed, for several seconds. “I’m not—Eiji and I, we—I didn’t—”

“I do not want to hear excuses,” Nahoko warns, channeling her mother as much as she possibly can. Eiji was so hurt when he got home. If she can do _anything_ to keep that from happening to him again, she will _._

“Nahoko.” Aslan runs his free hand through his hair and blows out a breath. “I… look. I may have made some mistakes in the past, but… I’ve never, ever meant to hurt Eiji, in my life, and I swear to you, I would rather cut off my own arm than hurt him in the future. He… he means everything to me. I promise you, I will never do anything to hurt him. All I want is for him to be happy.”

Nahoko lets out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness he isn’t trying to fight her on it. His stare is so _intense!_ “Good. I am happy to hear this. My brother, he is a good person. I do not want him to be sad.”

“He’s the best person in the world,” Aslan says very softly, looking down at Eiji again. “When we met, I was… hurting, too. I was in a pretty bad place. But he… he changed my life. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Nahoko softens, unable to hide a smile. She’s so _glad_ Eiji has someone who looks at him this tenderly, who speaks about him with this much love. After how worried about him she, Tou-san, and Kaa-san have all been lately, this is heartening beyond belief.

“I am very happy you love him.” She finally picks up the tray—Kaa-san must be wondering why she’s taking this long—and gives them both one final look. “He loves you, too.”

Aslan smiles, finally tearing his gaze away from Eiji. “I’m lucky, then.”

“Yes.” She shifts the tray, balances it against her hip, and frees up one hand to close the door on her way out. Then she pauses. “I think you will do well here. Welcome to the family, Nii-san.”

She fires a wink over her shoulder as she leaves; if only she was a photographer too, because she’s sure Eiji will regret missing the look on Aslan’s face as she closes the door. But then, she reconsiders.

After all, if Aslan is going to be part of their family now, she’ll have plenty more opportunities to make him blush later.

**Author's Note:**

> also I'm working on an Eiji-pov companion piece to this, which I'll probably post sometime after ep 24 airs to patch my own wounded heart.
> 
> thank you to ollie for reading and encouraging me with the early drafts of this ♥
> 
> find me on [tumblr](http://eijispumpkin.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/SongbirdRimi) !!


End file.
